only the end of the world again

I have been dreaming a lot lately. I hate to say it because I’d rather not jinx it. I’m afraid that by admitting this occurrence, it will rush from me as though I have behaved in a vulgar way. I don’t want to lose my dreams- they make me feel alive.

My dreams keep taking me to a similar place with familiar characters. At least they are becoming more familiar. Like a cast. But I will go into no details about it- I prefer to keep my dreams unsolidified in my memory.

Instead I just want to show this picture here. I didn’t take it- I just found it somewhere on the internet. I have no idea where it is from or anything. But I like to imagine that it’s been taken by someone who fell asleep in the bar. Somewhere in the back after an allnight party there with friends. I like to imagine it’s a private bar somewhere up the in mountains. The person who runs it lives there in a simple existence in the clean air. The sun starts coming up and cutting the moist air. Just before the possibility of pressing humidity kicks in and there is light but little heat.

I hope this is someplace very secret, someplace not commercial, someplace just for friends who know about it, who built it for themselves. I hope it is somewhere that’s very unpopulated. I hope its somewhere consistently cool and requires old jeans and things made of durable heavy cloth. I hope it smells vaguely of mint in the air and fermenting wood.